15: Clement.

I still want to kill everyone in the firehouse who owns a pair of testicles.

But as I follow Nicholas—who’s carrying Dasha—into the locker room upstairs, I can’t stop the glow of pride spreading in my chest. Nicholas and I were prepared to take on a dozen men to keep them from Dasha. We would have succeeded, too, because no man loses a fight over a female like her. Not when they’ve gotten a taste. Of her body. Of her worry and concern. Of the whole package.

She belongs to us now and I don’t care who knows. I’m old-fashioned to the bone and sharing a woman is not conventional. But won’t sharing Dasha with Nicholas be a million miles more satisfying than having a different woman all to myself? Fuck yeah. She was mine the moment I laid eyes on her, but right beside me, another man was having the same experience. I have to try and respect that, difficult though it’s proving. The ongoing struggle to share is between the three of us, though. Any outsider who’s got a problem with us can deli